Navigating the new strait that cut through Panama was painfully slow since the crew of the Euterpe had to take soundings every 100 feet to ensure they did not run aground. Traveling at 3 knots, Nicole estimated that they would clear the strait in less than 20 hours of sailing, barring any unforeseen issues; however, since they could not sail at night, it would take just over two days to reach the Atlantic.
Early into the first dog watch, Jess called out, “Five fathoms!” and two minutes later, “Four fathoms—‘er less!”
Nicole ordered for all sails to be furled in an attempt to slow the ship’s progress but before the Euterpe could coast to a stop a very loud scrape shook the ship and after a long and painful 10 seconds of screeching the Euterpe came to a stop.
Nicole burst down the companionway to inspect the hull and after a few minutes she returned relieved that the ship was not taking on any water—yet, but the longer the ship’s full weight was riding on its belly it could rupture at any time. When Nicole came back on deck, Matt was already in the dinghy rowing away from the ship to starboard with the sounding weight and taking measurements and calling them out as everyone listened and hoped.
“Four fathoms, four and a half, three,” and then two fathoms as Matt rowed near the shore.
Gus shook his head feeling a little hopeless and walked over to the port rail watching as Matt made his way to the opposite side of the channel and called out even fewer fathoms. It appeared that they had sailed into the deepest part of the channel but it was still too shallow for the Euterpe to clear. The wind freshened and shifted to northeast, blowing with it a heavy cloud of dust off a newly created cliff one point off port. The feeling was very hopeless and all eyes naturally turned to Nicole as she sat on the stool behind the helm.
“We came up on the shallow pretty hard; you’ll notice we are heeling over slightly which means we are almost completely resting on the bottom of the ship. It would take a miracle to get us off,” said Nicole sighing in frustration.
Ted was one of the few persons who was still optimistic and he walked forward to the bow and asked Nicole, “Certainly this has happened before, what did they do when ships ran aground 200 years ago?”
Nicole shrugged slightly, “Besides abandoning the ship they could sometimes pull her off using a very long cable connected to something very solid on shore, or another ship and with the help of the anchor windlass they could sometimes pull the ship free—but before you get any ideas, it took a dozen strong men to turn the windlass and if the cables slipped or broke it ripped men apart—and not to rain on anyone’s parade but even though we are not taking on water at the moment, once we pull her off, we may sink right here after the hull is relieved of the pressure.”
Just as everyone’s spirit was sinking lower than the ship’s belly, Matt came over the side with his usual playful candor and singing Heart of Oak—an old sailor’s ballad written in 1759, “Come cheer up my lads, it’s to glory we steer, to add something more to this wonderful year!”
Gus and Nicole were the only ones who recognized the ballad and while Nicole sneered, Gus began to laugh, “Sir Matthew, you are always our strength. Where in the world did you ever learn that old tune?”
Matt smiled completely undaunted by their current circumstance, “My granddad use to sing it a lot. Kinda strange since he wasn’t a sailor—at least not that I knew of.”
Matt and Gus stumbled through several attempts to get the next verse correct and then Matt recalled and sang out loudly as Gus joined in:
“To honor we call you, as free men, not slaves,
For who are so free as the sons of the waves.
Heart of oak are our ships,
Heart of oak are our men.
We always are ready,
Steady, boys, steady,
We’ll fight and we’ll conquer, again and again.”
By the time they finished their makeshift recital, Nicole was mildly amused as was the rest of the crew mostly because the voice quality was so poor but it did have the desired effect of raising everyone’s spirits and cast a glimmer of hope on a hopeless situation.
“So why is the water level sinking?” asked Matt looking at Nicole suspecting she knew everything about the ocean.
“Why do you think it’s sinking?” replied Nicole as she turned to look at the shore line a few hundred yards away.
Gus took out a pair of binoculars and studied the coastline and after few minutes he enthusiastically said, “It’s low tide!”
Nicole walked over to the map desk behind the helm and pulled out a small leather-bound book and began thumbing through its well-oiled pages. She stopped on a particular page and then looked at her wrist watch, “It definitely is a receding tide at the moment in this longitude and the lowest tide won’t be upon us for another hour, which will place even more pressure on the ship’s belly.”
She turned several more pages and then announced that at high tide, there is a difference of four feet in this area of the world, which will probably be enough to float them off the bottom once high tide returned. The question was, could the ship withstand the pressure until then?
“Until when?” asked Shay.
Nicole turned a few more pages and then sat the book on the desk, “Midnight—seven hours from now.”
Matt, still in very high spirits suggested that they try to make the ship lighter by throwing overboard everything they didn’t need. Gus and Nicole agreed this was a good idea and they started with the museum on the middle deck with tables, cabinets, glass enclosures and even hoisted four old cannons up through the cargo hold doors and threw them into the sea.
They then went through each remaining deck discarding everything that didn’t have to do with their marginal comfort and survival. The weight reduction wasn’t visibly noticeable to the ship’s position but Nicole estimated that they had thrown 11 tons overboard, enough to ease the pressure on the ship’s tender belly—hopefully enough to make a difference.
With a realistic hope in the air, the temperament of everyone was lighter and even cheerful as they ate and sat around on deck enjoying the evening sun in the tropics. In the east, a lazy moon was rising and due to the large amounts of smoke still in the high atmosphere from the Minimum, the full moon appeared blood red as it rose above the jungles of Panama.
Jess sat observing the strange lunar phenomenon and remembered a passage from the book of Revelations and quoted it out loud, “And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood.”
“That’s pretty dark Jess. If you’re trying to lighten the mood it’s not working very well,” said Matthew still being his light-hearted self. “Are you suggesting this is the end of the world?”
Jess smiled and shrugged, “No one knows, certainly not me, but if this is the sign St. John wrote about it’s the greatest news the world could hope for—it means Jesus is on his way back. The problem with scriptural references is they were all written during a time and place that no one can relate with today and the symbolism is lost on us. I mean, what does ‘sackcloth of hair’ mean? I’m guessing St. John is suggesting that the sun would not shine, which certainly happened for a week or so right after the Minimum due to all the smoke in the atmosphere. Now as it begins to dissipate, the moon does look like it has become as blood—but, to assume I have guessed right about something so important—now that is foolishness.”
Jess stopped and considered the state of the world since the Minimum and realized that perhaps now more than ever since the Bible was written it more closely resembled that day. From what they had seen of all the cities they passed from Montana to the coast and all the coastal towns they saw including Panama City, they were desolate and nearly everything modern was destroyed. And everything that fueled the modern world from gunpowder to gasoline was also destroyed. Mankind would have to do the best he could with his two hands again and whatever else nature provided.
Rather than
despair, Jess realized that while the world was physically devastated, it was about to enter a time of spiritual reawakening and he considered all the ways the modern world dulled man’s senses to the spirit and the more peaceable things of the universe. As Jess looked around the deck, coming out of his private dialogue, he noticed all eyes were focused on him anticipating what he was about to say next and his heart enlarged as if he were preaching to a congregation of new converts, “We have a great many things to thank God for. We have all been preserved and brought together not by accidental fate but divine will and I bless you all.”
The deck was quiet and in the silence, Jess began singing the Gladsome Light hymn again that he and Gus sang together in the mountains of Montana but then when coming to the conclusion he changed the words from gladsome light to gladsome delight in honor of the great ship Euterpe which had carried them safely and comfortably so far on their voyage to England.
Gus smiled as he watched Jess embrace and magnify his calling to the cloth at long last. He could tell he was at peace with himself and the conflict of vocation that was always under the surface of Jess’s character was gone and he stood as a pillar of faith and strength, “Father Jess, we are truly blessed to have you with us—and if there were ever a time we needed a miracle it is now.”
Gus pointed to the west and on the evening horizon was a set of sails beating down upon them. Matt pulled out a souvenir he took from the museum which was a 18th century brass looking glass and as he extended it, he inspected the ship in the distance and determined that it was indeed the Baslatmak with a full spread of sail, “They must have seen us enter the strait and have been allowing us to be the navigator, assuming all the risk.”
“And now that we are grounded, they will swoop in for the kill in pure Toprak fashion,” said Ted taking the glass from Matt and inspecting the Baslatmak.
High tide would not set in for another four and a half hours and Nicole estimated that the Baslatmak would be upon them in less than two. Unlike modern warfare where attacks were quick and nearly instantaneous, there was now time to plan and consider their options as the enemy approached. However, for the Euterpe, there seemed to be only one option and that was to abandon ship and take a dinghy to shore. The biggest problem with that plan was that they would then be stranded in a disease-infested jungle since no doubt Toprak would take the Euterpe as a prize once high tide returned.
Gus leaned over the side of the ship and looked down at the black water and watched his reflection ripple on the slow current moving past the hull. The ash in the water made it thick like coagulating blood and being an alchemist at heart, Gus’s mind wondered for a few minutes as he contemplated the chemical makeup of the water and how deadly it might be to all the sea life. After all, many dangerous and corrosive compounds were made of a base of sodium like sea water.
Gus stood up and brushed some dirt off the railing into the water and as it touched the surface he saw it solidify and then rapidly sink. Finding it curious, he brushed off several feet of light dust that had collected on deck since being in the channel and like before, it rested on top of the heavy water, solidified and sank.
He scraped up a small handful of dirt off the deck and inspected it. It looked and felt like clay. It was red and very dense, especially for dust. He spat into his hand and mixed the clay into a thick mud but unlike the clay in the water it didn’t solidify immediately. Gus determined that the chemical makeup of the water acted like a hardener to the clay.
Gus directed Matt to climb down to the waterline and fetch a cup of water from the channel and just as he saw from the deck, when the clay touched the contaminated water, it solidified. Gus turned the cup upside down and poured the water out on the deck and at the bottom of the cup rolled out stone the size of his thumb.
Gus surveyed the deck and even though there was a great deal of clay dust that had blown on board, it wasn’t nearly enough.
“Enough for what?” asked Shay.
“When this clay dust touches the water in the channel, it solidifies very rapidly. My thought was to dump enough behind us to block the Baslatmak but it would take a mountain of it,” said Gus a little discouraged.
Matt walked over to the thumb-sized stone lying on the deck and picked it up and then dropped it, “Wow, it’s hot!”
Gus walked over and picked up the stone and it was indeed very hot even though it had been sitting on deck for several minutes. Dropping the stone from hand to hand so that he would not get burned he also considered that it had over quadrupled in size compared to the amount of clay dust he dumped in the cup.
Gus was about to begin doling out orders but Matt was already 30 seconds ahead of him and had already gone down the side of the ship into the dinghy. He rowed 100 yards behind the ship and began taking soundings. In the low tide, the deepest sounding was only five fathoms or about 30 feet. He rowed back and after sharing his findings, Nicole estimated that the Baslatmak drew at least 10 feet more than the Euterpe since it was larger and responded confused, “Why—what did you have in mind?”
Gus did a quick calculation in his mind and determined that the Baslatmak would most-likely clear the channel where they were now stuck when high tide returned so therefore, they would have to make the depth shallower by at least a half fathom. Estimating again Gus determined that since the clay quadrupled when it cured in the water, they would need about four square yards of clay.
Ted, Shay, Jess and Matt lowered the large pinnace into the water and towed it behind the dinghy rowing toward the clay cliff on the opposite side of the channel. Once they came up alongside they climbed into the pinnace and began digging into the cliff with oars, filling the pinnace with clay up to the gunwale. The pinnace quickly became very heavy and sat dangerously low in the water. They now needed to tow it at least 100 yards behind the Euterpe and then sink it.
Towing the pinnace was very slow and laborious work but after a little over an hour, they were in position and they sat waiting for the Baslatmak to arrive. They didn’t have to wait long since Nicole’s prediction was very accurate and within two hours of its appearance it was upon them.
Matt turned to look for Gus’s signal to dump the pinnace but the darkness of the night was too far advanced and he could no longer see him at the stern rail. He could just barely make out the Euterpe. Matt turned to look forward and the Baslatmak was less than 50 yards away and everyone in the dinghy agreed that it was time. They all tried to swamp the pinnace but it was surprisingly stable and trying to swamp a boat while sitting in another proved to be very difficult since they couldn’t get any leverage or stability. The more they tried, the closer they came to swamping the much smaller dinghy they were all sitting in.
As the Baslatmak drew nearer, they could see it had dozens of lit torches on deck which gave it a very nefarious appearance especially being in an insignificant dinghy in front of the massive ship. If it continued toward them they would certainly be crushed under its weight. At first they assumed that their presence in the water was unnoticed by anyone onboard the Baslatmak but they then saw a torch approach the bow and Horsa’s deep voice barrel over the side, “It’s too late for a surprise Eurterpe’s—we see you down there, but how about you stay put and we’ll just run you over!”
Everyone in the dinghy was now in a full panic, frantically trying to dump the clay-filled pinnace in the dark as the ghostly white Baslatmak drew within 20 yards on a collision course. Matt looked up and correctly judged that even if they tried to row away now, they probably wouldn’t get out of the way fast enough. Angrily he stood up in the dinghy and with an oar tightly clinched in both hands he raised it high above his head and rammed it into the bottom of the pinnace with a very loud moan through clinched teeth.
The oar broke under the great pressure of his thrust but the sharp end continued to pass through the clay and burst through the bottom of the pinnace, spilling its payload into the channel. Unlike the dust Gus experimented with in a teacup, the sheer volume of the clay hitt
ing the toxic water all at once caused it to erupt like lava sending sparks and flame spears into the air. The blast blew the insignificant dinghy over the water a few dozen yards and then it capsized, dumping its human cargo into the black water.
Everyone swam to the surface and tried to wipe the rancid water from their faces. However, treading the thick water was easy and they turned to watch the inferno shower the Baslatmak with fire and brimstone, catching several jib sails on fire. The burning clay released great clouds of steam into the air as it sank under the surface, extinguishing the hot molten. As it sank, it expanded exponentially and through the flicker of flames they could see a sizeable stone raise above the surface of the water and they heard the Baslatmak come to a dead stop as its steel hull crashed into the uncompromising, fire-hardened clay stone that grew out of the bottom of the channel.
Running into a small stone mountain was the last thing the Baslatmak’s crew anticipated and as the great ship came to a sudden stop, several men were heard being thrown overboard and splashing into the black abyss of the channel.
Matt, Ted, Jess and Shay abandoned any attempt at looking for the dinghy and they all swam the remaining 60 yards to the Euterpe and found Nicole with a rope ladder to receive them. From the perspective of the deck, they saw the crew of the Baslatmak frantically trying to put out the sail fires and as they approached the quarter deck railing they saw Horsa and Gus exchanging hard glances across the distance of the two ships and stuck in some kind of unspoken dialogue of bitterness and hate.
After a few minutes they saw Horsa raise his hands above his head in a violent display of anger and yelled out having been beaten by Gus once more as he clinched both fists and shook them at Gus and vowed to kill him and yelled, “Guiscard!”
Nicole ordered for a full spread of sail and as the clock ticked off the seconds past 12:32, the Euterpe scrapped off the bottom of the channel and started to make way into the darkness beyond the reach of Horsa and his blood-thirsty crew. As they disappeared into the night, they could hear Horsa cursing them.
In the hazy moonlight, Jess continued to make soundings and even though it was risky to continue through the channel in the darkness, everyone determined that the fate of being caught by Toprak was worse and they gingerly made their way toward the Atlantic, feeling their way as it were at a slow two knots.
As the morning sun rose, they could see the wide open waters of the Atlantic less than five miles away and the black water of the channel faded into purple then grey and then finally blue. After stopping to replenish their water supply from a fresh spring flowing near the old city of Colon, they bent every sail and pointed their bow toward England.
ddd
On the other side of the Atlantic, Veronica found herself in command of a very disciplined but aggressive crew who was running low on water. Water storage and preservation was always a problem on old sailing ships that navigated the world’s oceans in any age and even though Toprak ships were equipped with very large reservoirs of water, they had not topped-off their tanks since they were in London four months ago—now in January, they were in desperate need. Dehydration had already claimed three lives on board her ship although they had stopped several times on their trek northward, all port facilities had been destroyed by the Minimum and all the water they were able to find was contaminated by ash and death.
Their progress was slow due to their continual search for water as they skirted the coast of Portugal looking for a river or spring. Due to all the new uncharted obstacles, they had to sail at least a mile off shore and then pick their way back every few miles. There was also the danger of coming in contact with hostile parties both on land and on sea and Veronica took every precaution to ensure the safety of her men and her ship, which required her to adapt Toprak’s policy of first aggressor, which was inherently against her nature.
Keeping her men constantly at quarters was also physically and mentally taxing. As she approached the ancient town of Porto, Portugal, she was determined to find both water and some downtime. As they sailed toward the coast, the only building they could see still standing was the ancient fortress of Castelo do Queijo, known in English as the Castle of Cheese since it was built on a rock shaped like a wedge of cheese protruding into the Atlantic. It was also positioned near the mouth of the Douro River and provided the best prospect for fresh water in the area.
The fort was built in the mid-17th century and was in surprisingly good order especially considering the state of everything else in the world. It was evident that some modern-day repairs had been performed on the castle as these areas were now all blackened and destroyed as if someone had poured acid on the castle and eroded all the vulnerable parts. Veronica and her Chief Officer knew that finding a structure this intact would ensure that it was certainly inhabited, and most likely by a hostile group of hungry and desperate people.
All of the rude establishments they visited on their way northward were made up of warring bands of people who violently defended what they had either found and or stole from others. It was unbelievable to Veronica how quickly the fabric of civilized society disappeared and how animalistic humanity had become in a few short months. Darwin’s “Survival of the Fittest” was being proved resolute on every shore they visited and it made her somewhat sad that so far, her and her crew proved to be the fittest and almost in every instance when she attempted to show kindness it was returned with aggressive attempts at advantage. There was only one instance where she offered the aggressor’s quarter that was received and the four men and one woman who were offered kindness joined her crew, the rest were all reluctantly destroyed.
As Veronica and the crew of the Ronnie approached the medieval castle, Veronica’s Chief Officer hailed the castle using a rolled up sheet of paper as makeshift megaphone, “Ahoy fortress on the Douro, we come in peace seeking only fresh water of which we will gladly pay.”
There was no response and Jantis hailed the castle again and after a few minutes a man could be seen peering over one of the top walls and then quickly hid. Upon seeing the man, Jantis called out to him, “You there, we seek you no harm. Have you any water to spare?”
When the man determined that he could see no archers on deck, he stood tall and signaled that they did not have water and for the ship to go away. Veronica motioned for Jantis to turn his back on the castle so that they could speak without the man perceiving what they were saying, “Medieval castles were always built near or on top of a spring. I’m fairly certain they have water and while I loathe taking it by force we have little choice.”
Jantis nodded in agreement as he secretly sent the word using a sign for all hands to prepare for a siege of the castle. The message was relayed below decks without a sound and 300 men prepared for an assault in silence. As they drew within 50 yards of the outer sea walls, Veronica signaled for the anchor to be dropped and they waited for nightfall.
By 7:30, darkness had set in and every pinnace and dinghy was lowered over the port side of the Ronnie, which was the side furthest from the castle. In complete silence and darkness, the crew made their way to the castle walls. Veronica and Jantis figured that the residents of the castle anticipated an attack but due to the rough seas crashing against the outer walls, they would most-likely be prepared for an attack from the land-side of the castle. However, to be prepared for anything, every soldier was equipped with a shield, which was an odd tool of modern warfare but Toprak specialized in hand-to-hand combat and their shields were made of cold-tempered Kevlar and were bulletproof.
Near the castle walls, ocean waves were over four feet in height which prohibited the boats from getting any nearer than fifteen feet for fear of being dashed against them. From that distance, grappling hooks were thrown to the top of the surprisingly low height of the walls and the first dozen men held on to the ropes and pulled themselves through the rough surf and then scaled the walls to see what was waiting for them on top. From the deck of the ship, Veronica could only make out shadows but she
could tell the first wave of men were now standing on the walls so far unmolested. She saw them crouch low as wave after wave of men reached the top and likewise hid themselves along the shadows of the wall.
Jantis ordered the men to make their way into the keep and as they crept down the three stone stairways they were surprised to find no resistance or even a single person to meet them. The castle appeared to be completely empty but the discipline of the battle-hardened Toprak soldiers ensured that they did not become complacent or foolishly over-confident as they groped along in the darkness still anticipating a fight.
Jantis ordered the men to stop their progress and crouching down near a bolted wooden door he could smell rum—lots of rum. After a few minutes he located the smell and with a finger he swiped the stone floor and put it in his mouth. The floor was covered with rum and he immediately ordered his men to fall back to the stairwells just as a torch was seen being thrown out of the open wooden door and landing in the castle keep.
The rum ignited and flames spread quickly across the floor catching several men as they fled but were soon recovered with minimal burns and after a few minutes the rum burned out and the castle was dark once more. Jantis assumed that such a tactic was employed only because there were not many of them and they did not have the weapons to protect themselves. Kicking in the wooden door, Jantis found a group of only a dozen people, most of them women and children huddled together and afraid with dazed countenances.
The room they were hiding in was a rather large storage facility; most-likely the powder store of the ancient fortress and lighting a torch, Jantis could see that they had amassed a very large store of rum and other spirits. Since he didn’t speak Portuguese, he tried as best he could to communicate with them and sent word for someone to find an interpreter as he tried to make hand gestures suggesting they wanted water and that they would not harm them if they cooperated.
The castle residents continually denied that they had any water and would place their hands to their throats in an aggressive manner that made Jantis assume they were threatening him. He then remembered the man on the wall as they approached the castle that seemed to speak English, “Where is the man who spoke to us from the wall?”
As they all looked at each other, not comprehending what he said, one of the solders dragged a man into the room and threw him on the floor in front of Jantis. The man scrambled to a sitting position and slid himself as far away from Jantis as he could.
“So you must be the man who spoke to us from the wall. Do you speak English?” asked Jantis.
“Only some,” replied the frightened man with a heavy accent.
Jantis drew his sword and placed it point-down in front of him as he rested his arms on the hilt in a show of force, “Well I know you know the word water and I’m fairly certain that you know that is why we are here.”
Everyone in the room backed away from Jantis a little further upon seeing his sword, “Our water is poison, we do not drink it,” said the man.
Jantis looked around at all the alcohol and realized that they were all drinking it instead of water, which explained the wasted disposition on everyone’s face including the children and probably why they did not even attempt to resist the invasion. He sheathed his sword at the same time he sneezed and a young woman in the back of the room began to laugh slightly—a young woman who had certainly had more than enough water for the day.
“Show me your water source,” demanded Jantis motioning for the man to rise freely.
They walked down to the dungeon level of the castle where the cistern was located and Jantis took up some water in his hands and after smelling it, took a small taste. It was at first sweet but with a very repugnant after taste that lingered in his mouth making him want to spit. After a few minutes he determined that the water was probably not poisoned, just foul tasting. He ordered for the barrels to be brought and filled and just to be safe, he also ordered fifty cases of rum to be taken to the ship so that they could be mixed with the foul water. Mixing rum with water was a very old sea practice that served a dual purpose. First it masked the foul taste of bilge water and also killed many hazardous microorganisms and sailors over the centuries affectionately called it grog.
While the ship was being loaded, Jantis explained to the residents that they could drink the water so long as they mixed it with rum or some other spirit, three parts water to one part alcohol. Then complying with Veronica’s wishes—his commander—when it came to all peaceful parties he offered them passage to England.
Three of the twelve elected to stay in the castle but the other eight came on board and were welcomed by Veronica. They were very surprised to see a woman commanding such a large and powerful army of all men and while the last of the water and rum was brought on board, Veronica found an interpreter and explained to the new crew members the laws of the ship.
Veronica, upon finding herself the Master and Commander of such a large force of hostile and very aggressive men determined that the best way to manage them was by employing the laws and punishments contained in the Admiralty Black Book of the 18th century. Though she did not have a copy with her, she had read it and with her near photographic memory, she was able to piece together a standard set of laws for the Ronnie.
“You have been offered protection and passage with us due to your peaceable dispositions,” she laughed and then continued, “as well as your stone drunk dispositions. You will all be considered part of the crew which means you will also be held to the same laws and punishments.”
She motioned for the interpreter to read from the Articles of War she had created as she stepped over to the taffrail to oversee the last of the water coming aboard.
The interpreter cleared his throat and in a very authoritative voice read, “Any act of theft will be punished with 12 lashings, sleeping on your watch—12 lashings, failing to show adequate officer respect—twelve lashings, refusing to obey orders—12 lashings and three days in the brig…”
Veronica’s Articles of War were read to the crew every Sunday on board so that there could be no misunderstanding and so that the complete knowledge of the laws would be for the benefit and protection of all. On board a ship, every sailor has a specific duty and the willful or ignorant neglecting of such endangered all on board. The interpreter completed the Articles with the punishment for mutiny, “Any willful act of insubordination, refusal to perform one’s duty or refusal to acknowledge Lady Veronica as the Master and Commander of this vessel shall be hung from the yardarm until dead.”
After the interpreter finished, the mood among the new arrival was extremely sober but considering their varying degrees of drunkenness, Veronica thought that was a good thing and they raised anchor on the noon tide and headed for the open Atlantic.
ddd
Matt stood at the helm, being the only one on deck during the first dog watch which spanned the hours between four and six o’clock in the evening, watching the compass and meticulously making sure he was continually on course—the course Nicole had dictated. The rest of the crew was below eating dinner and since there was little danger to be found in the open sea, it was now common for the person of the watch to be alone. Matt was getting the hang of handling the ship, how she responded to a freshening breeze and groaned with shifting currents so that his time at the helm was more relaxed and even enjoyable. The sun was about two hands breadth from the horizon and as he checked the ship’s time he noticed a white dot about one point off starboard, a small blip rising above the sea in the evening light.
He leaned his elbows on the helm to hold it in place as he took out his looking glass and inspected the strange dot on the horizon. It appeared to be a solo cloud in an otherwise cloudless sky, but as they drew closer it grew larger and Matt could tell it was a set of sails.
He reached over and rang the ship’s bell and within a few minutes, Nicole came up on deck accompanied by Ted to see what the alarm was. Matt handed Nicole his glass and pointed in the direction of the ship, “
Set of sail about one and a half points.”
Nicole studied the ship through the glass for a few minutes and then handed the glass to Ted, “Yep, it’s another ship all right. Who would have thought in this world right now that we would see any?”
Ted nodded in agreement and put the glass back up to his eye trying to identify the ship, “Well, it’s a white hulled ship. I only know of one organization with those.”
“The Baslatmak!” said Nicole, “How did they get so far ahead of us? They would have had to sail round the Horn.”
Ted handed the glass back to Matt and leaned up against the quarter deck rail, “Toprak was and probably still is a very powerful and very wealthy organization. Gus seems to think that they had nearly 200 ships of sail at one point. How many they have now is of course anyone’s guess but it appears they have at least two—the Baslatmak behind us and most likely the one in front of us is Hengist, Horsa’s brother.”
“And we’re the meat between two slices of bread,” said Shay coming up on deck.
Matt shook his head disagreeing, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, we did after all place a pretty big rock in his path. High tide or low, I don’t think he will be able to get around it. He will have to go around the Cape don’t you think Nicole?”
Nicole nodded and took the glass and looked again at the white Toprak ship, “They are turning to intercept us. They were on a northerly course but now they are headed straight for us. They have obviously seen our sails as well.”
“What are we going to do?” asked Shay.
Nicole sighed, “Well, not much. They are coming at us downwind which gives them the complete advantage of the engagement. The only thing we could do is turn and run before them and hope we are faster—which we know we are not. Besides, we don’t have enough supplies to get us twice across the Atlantic. We’ll barely make it once.”
Matt sat thinking about how they could possibly prevail in such a vulnerable situation and considered that since they had not encountered Hengist yet, there was a chance that he did not know their numbers. Perhaps they could make it appear that they had many more on board than they did and maybe negotiate better terms rather than complete annihilation.
It wasn’t a good plan but it was all they had so Ted called everyone on deck which wasn’t all that impressive—six persons. Nicole remembered that as part of the museum they stored some old naval uniforms down in the bilge that were in too poor condition to display so she went below decks and returned with several dozen jackets, trousers and hats.
“This won’t fool them once they are close but it just might deter them from getting too close,” said Nicole placing a jacket over an oar she pulled from the dinghy.
They quickly dressed whatever fixtures on deck that could pass as a man standing or sitting and Matt and Ted put on a jacket so that the uniforms would blend with the rest of the plain clothes crew. As a show of potential force, Nicole had all the gun ports opened and the few guns they had, she ran out—not that they could fire but any show of strength was a point in their favor.
Nicole pulled her long blond hair onto the top of her head and put on an old officer’s hat, hiding her last piece of vulnerability and waited for Toprak to arrive.
As the sun was touching the water, the Toprak ship was less than 500 yards away and near enough for long nines if guns could still fire. As the live and pretend crew of the Euterpe watched, the Toprak ship came within one hundred yards and in the quickly fading light of the day, it launched a blinding wave of fire arrows at the Euterpe, catching all of her sails and rigging alight and sending her crew below decks.
The Euterpe was an iron ship which meant that she would not be consumed and sunk by fire but she would be rendered completely crippled with no sails or rigging—which was Toprak’s design. Within a few moments, they could hear boarders above them on deck speaking in Russian, Turkish and several other languages they didn’t readily recognize putting out the sail fires and throwing everything burning into the sea. They then could hear the boarders coming down the companionway and searching all the compartments. Several times Gus had to restrain Matt from taking on the entire crew by himself and Matt felt like a coward for hiding instead of fighting. Gus assured him there would be a time to fight, but only when they could shift the odds in their favor by waiting to be found and attacking in a confined area, one-on-one. Matt, remembering the needless loss of the General in Montana nodded.
They all sat and listened to the Toprak soldier’s footsteps draw nearer and on Gus’s signal; they jumped out from behind the second deck ladder and attacked the three soldiers nearest them. Matt’s sword was deadly and after slicing up three men, he was quickly overcome by a dozen or more who threw him to the ground and bound his hands and feet and then dragged him up on deck. The other crew members of the Euterpe were ordered on deck at the point of a sword and the three dead soldiers were carried up and thrown overboard in a very non-emotional, matter-of-fact manner.
Standing on the smoke-filled deck amid smoldering heaps of sail, Ted turned to look at Nicole and watched her stand bravely and defiantly with all the dignity of Queen Mary, waiting for her execution. Feeling his gaze, she turned and kissed him on the lips, with more emotion that he expected, as if it were a last farewell as they all waited to be executed in brutal Toprak fashion.
The crew of the Euterpe were all ordered to stand in a line against the port rail when they heard the commander of the boarding crew yell out to all the soldiers through the smoke, “ATTENTION THERE, LADY VERONICA ON DECK!”
It wild surprise, Matt and the rest of the crew of the Euterpe turned their heads in the direction of the call and in the last light of the day they heard commanding footsteps approaching them.
Matt watched in great anticipation as he saw an elegantly dressed woman with dark hair appear out of the smoke in a long, flowing blood-red dress with a black belt connected to a long sword with a golden hilt. It was quickly becoming difficult to see clearly in the fading daylight and a Toprak officer brought a torch to Veronica’s side just as Matt realized it was indeed Veronica, Gus’s summer intern.
Veronica stood waiting for her eyes to adjust to the changing light as Matt admired her powerful presence amidst the fire of the torch, the clearing smoke and her dangerous elegance. So much had transpired since June in Washington when they nervously exchanged their first greetings in Gus’s office. Seeing Veronica in such firm and undeniable command of a Toprak army made him question if she was now his enemy. He remembered his brief conversation with her through the Rain Locker back on the General’s ranch several months ago when she told him she loved him, but that seemed like a lifetime ago and Matt interpreted Veronica’s absent stare waiting for her eyes to get accustomed to the dull light for callousness.
Just how Veronica got from Kensington Palace to the command of a Toprak ship was very concerning. If Matt had learned anything in the past few months, it was that the world and everyone in it were unpredictable and he quickly began to convince himself that Veronica was his enemy and that he didn’t really know her after all. He took a step backward in his foggy thoughts, forgetting his feet were still tied and fell over on his back just as Veronica recognized the five people onboard and yelled, “Matthew!”
She ran over to him, dropping her power and rank like slipping out of her dress and fell on top of him, kissing him as she cried. Matt could do nothing but lie there with his hands bound, once again feeling stupid at his inability to respond to Veronica’s affection.
“I’m guessing they know each other?” whispered Nicole to Ted, somewhat disgusted.
Ted shook his head in confusion and then laughed, “They do, but I never dreamed they knew each other like that.”
After all the pleasantries were exchanged, Veronica ordered the Toprak crew to refit the Euterpe with extra sails onboard the Ronnie and then invited the crew of the Euterpe to board the luxurious Ronnie. The Ronnie was only two years old and the officer cabins were equipped with all the lux
uries of a cruise ship including warm showers and laundry facilities. While the Euterpe crew cleaned themselves up, Veronica order their clothes to be laundered and a lavish meal prepared to welcome and honor her dear friends.
A gang plank was placed between the two ships and as Gus stepped on the deck of the Ronnie, he smiled at Veronica like a proud parent, seeing his child succeed. Veronica placed her hand on his shoulder and they looked into each other’s eyes, sharing a silent conversation that could have taken hours to complete if words were used. After a few minutes, Gus smiled and then nodded.
Matthew couldn’t remember the last time he had bathed and after a clean shave he felt years younger and pounds lighter. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he walked out of the washroom into Veronica’s cabin which was the largest and most luxurious cabin onboard, taking up the entire stern of the ship.
Veronica was lying on the bed and upon hearing Matt emerge she rolled over and smiled, so unbelievably happy to be with him again. As Matt struggled to pull a comb through his hair, Veronica noticed the scar across his chest, “Matthew, what happened?”
Matt could tell Veronica was looking at his gunshot wound he received in the stadium parking lot while trying to be a Good Samaritan, “Oh that? Old football wound.”
“Football? It looks like you have been stabbed. When did they start playing football with knives?” asked Veronica getting up off the bed and lovingly running her fingers along the long scar.
“Actually, it was after a game in the stadium parking lot when I tried to rescue some poor girl being beaten by some jerk twice her age. It’s a painful reminder that no good deed goes unpunished.” Matt threw the comb on the bed and pulled Veronica close to him.
Veronica slowly looked up at Matt with tears in her eyes and for a few minutes she couldn’t speak. Matt wiped her tears and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, “It’s okay—it was a long time ago.”
Veronica looked up with questioning eyes and trembling lips, holding back a wall of emotion, “That was you?”
Matt said nothing for a few seconds and just looked down at Veronica placing together the meaning of what she had just said and once the circle had been completed in his mind he broke their embrace and held her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye, “That was you!?”
Veronica bit her lip and nodded as a tear rolled down her cheek. Matt pulled her close again and held her tightly and stroked her long brown hair as Veronica spoke with her lips on his chest, “Don’t you ever think your good deeds are meaningless or unrewarded. I’m certain that if not for you I would have died that day.”
The memory of that day began flashing through Veronica’s mind and she recounted all the events leading up the stadium initiation and in light of everything she knew now about Toprak, it all made sense.
Matt sat Veronica on the bed and looked at her incredulously, “Who was he and why was he beating the hell out of you?”
“Looking back now he was my handler and I decided at the stadium that I didn’t want to be initiated.”
“Initiated—initiated into what?”
Veronica sighed, “The Toprak student chapter at U.C. Berkley.”
“TOPRAK! What was Toprak doing at U.C. Berkley all those years ago?”
Veronica was surprised at Matt’s angry response and she continued somewhat timidly, “I was sponsored on campus during my freshman year by my roommate. I went to several meetings and I really liked what I heard. They talked about training political science majors like me to become a new kind of lobbyist focused on the constitution and in reducing human suffering.”
Matthew was exhausted and he lay back on the bed folding his arms behind his head as he thought for a moment, “That doesn’t sound like the Toprak we know today. How did you go from singing the Star Spangled Banner to being nearly kicked to death at the stadium?” He paused again, placing the events of Veronica’s past together and then continued more frustrated and confused, “And then how did you end up sailing one of their ships for hell’s sake?”
Knowing now that Veronica had a past with Toprak dating back at least four years, long before he or Gus was even aware of an organization called Toprak concerned him. Could it be that Veronica was really still voluntarily employed by Toprak and her assignment in Gus’s office was all part of some Toprak global plan? Matt’s heart skipped and his breath become short, “What if she were actually a Toprak harbinger?”
Matt jumped off the bed in alarm and stared at Veronica for the first time as someone, or something that could destroy him. He instinctively raised his hands making two tight fists to protect himself, expecting any moment for Veronica to respond to a pentacode now that she had been discovered.
Veronica was still lying on the bed and she narrowed her eyes in confusion as she looked at Matt assume a strong defensive position, “What are you doing?”
Matt didn’t respond. His fists were still raised and his eyes open wide as he waited for Veronica to demonize and attack him. The silence between them grew more intense with every passing second. They both continued to look at each other, neither knowing what to say or do. Then after a several long minutes, Veronica sat up laughing nervously, “Matthew!”
Veronica’s sudden movement made Matt jump backwards in mortal alarm and he yelled, “Whoa!” almost losing the towel around his waist.
When Veronica didn’t turn into the devil, Matt slowly lowered his fists but still kept a safe distance from the woman he loved.
Veronica was still confused and was quickly becoming afraid of Matt. She shook her head, trying to lighten the mood between them by trying to laugh, “What are you doing?”
Matt was still speechless and didn’t move, still looking intently at her.
She finally began to realize what was going through Matt’s obviously very fatigued mind and she let out a sigh of both relief and frustration as she rolled her eyes, “I’m not a Toprak harbinger you idiot! Although they would have probably loved to have made me into one—but being that I’m of Saxon blood I don’t think that is possible, as I understand it. You have to have a pretty impressionable and weak mind.”
Matthew first sighed in relief and then began to laugh as he realized how ridiculous he was being, “I suppose you’re right, being weak minded certainly is not one of your faults.”
“And what are my faults that you seem to have cataloged so well?” asked Veronica a little irritated now.
He walked back over to the bed where Veronica was still sitting and smiled, “The only one I can think of is your terribly bad luck.”
“Luck is a slave of perception Matt. Thanks to you I escaped that day at the stadium. However I have since learned they trailed me continually up until we flew to England a few months ago. I had the good fortune of being able to convince a Toprak Captain that he was a fool to follow Hengist’s orders in Algiers and we sailed away to freedom.”
Veronica got up off the bed and placed her hands on Matt’s chest, “I’m not one of them. I am one of you. Besides, if I were going to kill you I would have already done it—I command 300 men,” she said grabbing the hair on his chest.
Matt yelled out and pushed Veronica away so hard that she fell back on the bed as she laughed, “You’re afraid of me I think. Ha ha—you are!”
Matt climbed on the bed and straddled Veronica, holding her firmly to the bed so that she couldn’t move as he held her arms above her head. He looked into her steel eyes, first looking for any traces of evil but was quickly lost and drowning in her deep blue pools that lovingly looked up at him. He slowly began to lower his head toward her, his lips drawing nearer to hers when Veronica quickly made up the distance between them and placed her soft lips on his.
Matthew rolled over on the bed and held her in his arms as she laid her head on his bare chest and it wasn’t long before Matt was sound asleep, being overcome with the plush comfort of the bed and the peace of the moment he had dreamed of for months. As Matt and Veronica slept, the crew of the Ronnie work
ed throughout the night refitting the Euterpe and by morning it was ready to make way.
Matt was awakened by the morning sun that was dancing off the Atlantic and reflecting through the large stern windows and could smell coffee brewing. He was surprised at how much he missed simple comforts and the once very common pleasures of civilized society. Sleeping in a clean, soft bed and the smell of coffee in the morning was almost a complete sensory overload. Coming up on deck, he watched and admired Veronica as she commanded the Toprak crew preparing to set sail and he smiled as she spoke sternly to a crewman who had apparently taken too long to do something and he couldn’t help but remember the old Veronica in Gus’s office, sweet and very polite.
He walked up behind her, placed his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, “Ever since you told me you loved me in that rainstorm in Montana I have been tormented and I vowed that the next time I saw you I would not be the coward I was and that I would love you as passionately as I fight.”
Veronica turned around, still in his embrace and smiled, “It sounds like I’m in big trouble.”
Matt laughed, “I think I’m the one who is in trouble, you command 300 of the most battled-hardened men I’ve ever seen and they all obey and adore you.”
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